


The Lion Rampant

by TeamGwenee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage AU, F/M, Sequel to Lion Cubs, Vignettes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-05 02:54:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15854784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamGwenee/pseuds/TeamGwenee
Summary: A Sequel to Lion Cubs. Lord Jaime Lannister and Lady Brienne Lannister of Tarth are now adults grown, and ruling in their own right.





	1. Chapter 1

From a distance, the former Lady of Casterly Rock cut a cold and dignified figure, standing frozen upon the battlements of Casterly Rock. The blustering wind snatched her hair from its pins. Joanna pursed her lips in annoyance and tried to subtly tuck them back, annoyed at looking a mess to all the spectators. A flicker of the eyelid sent her diffident maid from rushing forward and sorting it for her.

She tried to smile as she watched the trail of Lannister red weave its way from the Rock, her eldest son and his wilful wife riding side by side at the head. It seemed only seconds before they had been children playing with wooden swords. Joanna reached down and rested a hand on Tyrion's shoulder. To his credit, her son did not brush off the gesture as he had taken to doing, fighting against his mother, his height and the very world to assert his age. Joanne knew she coddled him, more so than any of her other children. But she was going to have to let him grow up eventually. She couldn't hide him from the world forever, he would have to play his in the world and do his duty by his family.

"They will be alright Mother," Tyrion said gently, seeing through Joanna's proud facade and sounding every inch the man.

"Brienne should have stayed," Joanna insisted, "Jaime needs to be with his men, but Brienne's place is here,"

"It is Brienne's home that is under threat, she is as likely to let Jaime defend Tarth alone than Cersei is to ask for charitable donations for her nameday present," Tyrion smirked.

"What if she is with child, what then?" "Then their child will be the first warrior blooded in the womb. And if you want Jaime to come home from his first battle alive, sending Brienne to guard his back is the best way to do it,"

"I want Jaime home safe more than anything," Joanna said, her bare hands cutting into the rough stone of the wall, "But Brienne belongs at the Rock,"

"We would all rest easy having Brienne here to guard us," Tyrion said lightly, "But you will simply have to make do with me for protection, a poor substitute that may be,"

Joanna looked at her youngest son, with his laughing mouth and weeping eyes. Her son who her beloved husband had cursed with his dying breathe. Her son who lords sniggered at and declared to be the Lannister shame. Her clever son who could talk his way out of a lion's dinner plate and had a heart greater than a giant's.

"I would chose no other to defend our home," she kneeled before him, looking him in the eye.

"Let us pray I am not called upon to be Casterly Rock's defender for long, and our valiant heroes shall return home victorious," Tyrion gave his brother and good-sister one final wave, the pair spots of red on the horizon.

"To the Old Gods and the New," Joanna prayed fervently. She took a breath, turned back to the departing army and waved, a nonchalant smile on her pale lips.


	2. Chapter 2

"It is nothing," Brienne insisted as Jaime fretted above her.   
Or at least that is what Jaime thought she said, her face so thick with swelling that her voice was quite muffled. Her face was black and purple and she was already dreading her father's reaction when they regrouped with his troops and returned to Evenfall Hall. 

Jaime's fussing was bad enough. He had entered their tent, hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword, declared her even uglier than usual, and then broke down into a torrent of tears. 

It may have been the Milk of the Poppy coursing through her veins, but she failed to see what Jaime was so het up about. The pirates who had plagued Tarth's West Coast had been driven away and replaced with hardy soldiers ready to keep it so. Any imminent danger was quenched and apart from some minor bruising, all was well.  
Brienne reached out with her good arm; the one not in a sling, and took Jaime's hand.

"This is our first battle," she said sincerely, "We will no doubt have many more to come. How will you handle yourself when my life will truly be in danger?"

Jaime shook his head at Brienne's words. Their first battle. Many more to come. More chances of seeing Brienne bloodied and bruised and being beaten into the ground. He had thought he was ready. He had felt ready, thought himself such a man even as chaos broke out around him. But then in the final bout of fighting Brienne had been dragged from her horse and he was just a young boy again. 

He sat on Brienne's bed and squeezed her hand, furiously blinking back the last of his tears. Brienne watched him for a moment, before huffing and rolling over.

"At least tell me that my being beaten wasn't all you saw?" she pleaded.

"It will be all I shall see for the next month," Jaime said bitterly, the image tattooed on the back of his eyelids.

"Then you didn't see me take down four of the pirates by myself?" Brienne demanded, "And you didn't see me hurl their Captain right into the sea?"

Jaime hastily wiped his eyes with the back of hand and scoffed. 

"I did not and I daresay no one else did either," he declared, "It is clear you are talking falsehoods my Lady. You did no such thing,"

"Beg your pardon my Lord but I very much did," Brienne insisted, "Ser Addam and Lord Harys can vouch for me,"

"Then I must have misheard you," Jaime insisted, "Your bruises distorted your voice greatly for I thought you said you took down four single handedly as well as a Captain, when surely you meant you defeated one and helped take down some others,"

"That is not what I meant," Brienne growled.

Jaime patted Brienne's knee. "Perhaps you took down a second," he conceded, "One with rusted hook for a hand, a leg of rotten wood and an eye of glass,"

"Four pirates," Brienne hissed, "And a captain,"

Jaime shook his head. "Not you," he said seriously, "You would have been over-powered far too quickly and with far too much ease,"

"I have never been over-powered quickly nor with ease, and I never shall,"

Jaime quirked an eyebrow and leant forward, running a finger along Brienne's neck and rising to his knees. 

"Is that so my Lady?" he questioned, "Could you keep me from over-powering you now?"

"I could," Brienne said proudly, "But that does not mean I shall,"

And at long last, Jaime stopped fussing over Brienne's bruises.


	3. Chapter 3

"This is a rare honour," Joanna said lightly, placing her embroidery aside and rising to greet her good-daughter, "It has been a while since you graced me in my chambers,"

Brienne blushed and stammered her apologies. When she was a child daily she would find herself cloistered in Lady Joanna's chambers, struggling over the harp or pricking herself with needles. Now a woman grown and ruling alongside Jaime in their own names, she no longer submitted herself to Lady Joanna's instructions. Loathe as she was to admit it, Brienne knew Joanna was disappointed and disapproving in equal measure of her son's wife. Affectionate, certainly. But despairing nonetheless. Brienne's insistance on dirtying and bloodying herself amongst their men at arms may have been more palatable to Lady Joanna, had Brienne been able to balance these unfortunate tendencies with the grace and dignity befitting a lady of rank.

"I wished to welcome you back from Dorne," Brienne said politely.

"And?" Lady Joanna questioned as they took their seat. Lady Joanna had already been sufficiently welcomed by her children, with embraces and the promises of a feast the next day once she had rested.

"And to ask after Cersei," Brienne admitted.

"Surely Jaime is still not fretting," Joanna sighed "The babe is born and mother and child recover,"

As frosty as relations had grown between the twins, she was still his sister and he had spent endless nights worrying for her health.

"No," Brienne said, "I just wish to know how...if...what it was truly like?"

"If it was as bloody a battle as is promised?" Joanna deciphered, "Well, speaking as a woman who has been through labour I can say Cersei's experience was fairly standard. A great deal of screaming and hours of terror, all ending in a great gush of blood and Seven knows what else,"

"Oh," Brienne shoulders slumped forward, "I was hoping that it had been exaggerated to me,"

Joanna reached forward and took Brienne's hand into her own. "Are you with child?"

"No," Brienne blushed, "At least, not yet," Joanna suppressed a smile. Not yet indeed. Everyone knew it was only a matter of time.

"I just wanted to know a bit more," Brienne explained, "Prepare myself,"

"You are frightened?" Joanna smiled, "You charge into battle without breaking a sweat, but the childbed is too frightening for you? When weak, pliant women such as myself have endured and survived,"

"I have never thought you weak," Brienne protested, "And I am afraid, I do not deny it,"

"Well I suppose more women die in the birthing bed than on the battle field," Joanna said lightly, "And your fear is not unfounded,"

"My mother died in childbirth," Brienne said quietly.

"I know," Joanna sighed, "And I cannot promise you will not. No more than anyone can promise you will not die in battle. All I can is assure you that everything will be done to see you through safely. You saw how Jaime fretted over Cersei, do you doubt he will let you go into battle unarmed?

" "Jaime knows better than to coddle me," Brienne said stiffly. "Cersei needs as much coddling as an irate asp," Joanna said dismissively, "It is in his nature and is just another trial you will have to endure,"

~

Brienne had wished Lady Joanna had been there to see her through it. The woman who had birthed children herself, the lady who had raised her. Brienne wanted nothing more than to lay the late Lady Lannister's grandchild against her breast. The babe had not been as forthcoming as had been hoped, with fears that Brienne would prove barren. Fears that Lady Joanna carried to the grave.

Brienne looked at the stone effigy resting beside her husband, and gently tugged at her child's blanket so that Lady Joanna could see the face. The child began to fret and Brienne briefly regretted bringing her here, thinking it too morbid for an infant. She assured herself that the child just wanted feeding and kissed its forehead.

"Soon dearest," she promised, "Soon,"

Lady Joanna may not have minded Brienne feeding her grandchild before her tomb, but even in death Lord Tywin may have taken offense if the stories of him were true.

"Brienne!" a voice called, "Seven Hells I've been having the servants tear the place apart looking for you,"

Brienne rolled her eyes. "Your father loves us very much," she told her daughter, "But that doesn't mean he can't be a bit ridiculous at times,"

Brienne turned one final time to Lady Joanna's tomb.

"You were right," Brienne informed her, "Jaime is fretting far too much. But I find I can endure it quite well after all,"


	4. Chapter 4

Jaime loathed his council meetings, and Brienne found little more joy in the endless droning and posturing. They attended to their duties, but sluggishly and with as much interest as old cat fattened on cream.

 "I wish we could go," Jaime would moan to Brienne, "I wish we could go ride and swim in the sea and jump off the rocks and practise in the yard. Oh Gods do I wish we were wielding our swords and shields and not quills and paper,"

 Tyrion's quick mind relished the exercise, but even he occasionally found himself in need of some diversion.

And for once, the fates looked upon him with kindness.

Lord Crakehall lifted his several chin and pursed his fleshy lips. Jaime drummed his fingers against his arm rest in frustration. Brienne tried to look calm and unmoved. Tyrion smirked and drank more wine.

"Would you care to repeat that, Lord Crakehall?" Jaime asked coldly, his 'Lord Lannister' voice slipping out with greater ease than he had ever known before.

"I said," Lord Crakehall repeated, steel entering into his voice, "That in future the Lady Lannister would do better to keep her mouth shut so that those with words of actual consequence would have more time to speak,"

Jaime's fist curled and his skin blanched as white as ice. Tyrion thought of Jaime's many declarations of wishing he could wield his sword during his council meetings, and grimaced at the thought of the mess that the poor maids would have needed to clean had Jaime not respected guest right. Lord Crakehall was one wrong word away from being hunted and gutted like the boar on his sigil.

The air was still around him, and as Jaime's muscles grew taught it seemed as though he were preparing to pounce. He opened his mouth, but a look from Brienne quenched whatever fire raged within. It went against his very nature to remain silent, but there had never been a battle Brienne needed to be fought on her behalf before, and this would not be the first.

"My sex aside Lord Crakehall," Brienne said, reaching beneath the High Table to take Jaime's hand in her own, "Which of my words do you find yourself in opposition to?"

"Your frailty blinds you to the truth of the world," Lord Crakehall postured, "You insist on sitting on your lord husband's council like a man and yet you let yourself succumb to the sentimentality and short-sightedness of your-"

"I said," Brienne cut in, "My sex aside. Tell me, what exactly have I said that you find fault with? Your nephew and his cohorts  assaulted a young lady in our employ. Her injuries and her testimony speak for itself, never mind the multiple witnesses who have stepped forward on her behalf. So tell me, with no posturing and no diversions, which of my words do you find objection to?"

"Lord Lannister," Lord Crakehall turned pointedly to Jaime, "Surely you do not mean to allow yourself to be swayed by your Lady Wife's bleating? She has a tender heart, which does her credit, but-"

"Not a tender heart," Brienne corrected, "But a functioning one. I possess functioning ears as well, which is why you can address me directly and not through my husband. We have sufficient proof of you nephew's guilt, and unless you can provide evidence to counter these claims, what keeps you from permitting justice being done? Is it that he is your nephew and you believe your kin above the law?"

"Of course not!" Lord Crakehall blustered.

"You misunderstand the law and are not aware that such acts are indeed criminal?" Brienne probed.

"No!" Lord Crakehall insisted, "I am very much aware of the law,"

"Well then you have no excuse. Clearly it must be you do not believe such crimes are worthy of punishment," Brienne concluded, "You would allow half of our realm's populace to be abused without consequence. If this is so then you are clearly incapable of doing your duty to your people. Do my husband and I need to reconsider the extent of the lands you hold rule over in our name?"

A taut silence fell, and Brienne fought to not shift her gaze towards Jaime and seek his approval. Jaime never silenced her, but threatening to take the lands away from one of his lords was a step further than she had ever taken.

Jaime reclined comfortably, a smile playing at his lips. "Well, Lord Crakehall?" he asked lazily, "Do we?"

Lord Crakehall deflated and bowed. "I accept your judgement my Lord," he bowed obsequiously, "And my Lady," he added with such haste that wine snorted from Tyrion's nose.

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Jaime felt as though he was eleven again, letting Tyrion and Brienne sneak into his chambers to play games and sneak sips of wine Tyrion had weedled from the kitchen. Pillows, quilts and furs lay strewn across the cold stone floor and the curtains were swept open. A stream of blue moonlight poured in and drenched the trio sat upon the floor.   
Brienne sat straight against the bed post, allowing Jaime only to run his hand along her leg as he lolled by the fire. Tyrion poured them generous goblets of wine, knowing full well he would lay claim to Brienne's goblet within the hour. A platter of cold meats and cheese lay temptingly within reach, stolen from dinner. Of course, they could easily just have called for wine and food, but then the illusion of childlike naughtiness would have been lost. 

"What news have you of your father, dear sister?" Tyrion inquired, "Jaime informs me you have received a letter,"

"He's well," Brienne said bluntly.

"Weren't you worried that some storms on the East coast would keep the fishermen from work?" Jaime questioned.

"It seems the extent of the storm was overestimated," Tyrion explained.

"They were preparing for the worst, that was all," Brienne added.

Silence fell as they chewed over thick wedges of cheese and ham. Jaime grimaced and swallowed his down quickly, eyes bulging as the large chunks caught in his throat.

"Seven Hells!" he wailed, "When did we all get so old?" 

"I never thought I would see the day when all I had to talk about was the weather," Tyrion sighed, "I always took comfort that some husband I had made a cuckhold of would hunt me down first," 

"You are a man grown and Jaime and I are parents," Brienne said sternly, "We can hardly fritter our time away as we used to,"

"I agree," Jaime said solemnly, "Our time is too precious. We must start making the most of it and revert to our childlike ways at once,"

"Not at once," Brienne protested, "Tis the Harvest Festival and tomorrow all your lords and ladies will be descending upon us,"

"And it's not like any of our old games will be as fun as they once were," Tyrion said despondently, "Like Dares for example. There is no danger now we can get away with everything,"

"Not even mother can come back from the grave and give us a telling off," Jaime commiserated, "Not now we are all grown and I am Lord of Casterly Rock and the Warden of the West,"

"No, but with all of the West cramped in Casterly Rock with us, any wrong word could start an uprising or leave a war on our hands," Brienne said sternly.

"Brienne my dear you are quite true," Tyrion brightened up greatly, "Why, the stakes are even higher than ever!"

"If we play Dares whilst are guests are present, the fun shall be greater than ever before," Jaime planted a kiss on Brienne's cheek, "Brienne, for once I can call you a something close to genius!"

"We shall start the game tomorrow," Tyrion declared, "The contestant who earns the Lord's ire the most is the champion. Splendid idea Brienne,"

"That's not what I meant," Brienne said feebly.

But she didn't say no.   
                                              

~

Tyrion had given Brienne the idea, dismissing Brienne's reluctance to don a gown. Brienne's dare had been directed at Tyrion, but Jaime gamely joined in and it was with great pride and confidence the two brothers swept into the Great Hall. Such pride and confidence in fact, that a great many of the lords strained frantically to remember if they had missed some part of the invitation. Several rushed out and returned in their wives' finest gowns.

Lord Tyrek and Ser Michel came to blows when they both wore the same colour, and Ser Luther refused to speak to Lord Adrian when he was heard remarking that his gown made his legs look short. However, many men continued to wear their gowns the next day after they were met with an enthusiastic reception from their wives. 

~

Even though Jaime had already participated in Brienne's dare, he eagerly accepted Tyrion's. The dare itself sadly ended in a disappointing and rather disturbing anti-climax. 

"My Lords," he said gravely, indicating for them to be seated, "What I have to tell you cannot leave these doors, "I have spoken with my Maester and I fear that this harvest has been less bountiful that had been hoped. Not only that, but our populace has increased considerably. The outlook on the upcoming winter is bleak, long and hard and certain to devastate our land,"

"What is to be done my Lord?" Lord Brax asked.

Jaime tried to keep his face solemnly set, while Brienne and Tyrion lurked eagerly behind a screen. Jaime sighed and spread his hands, and plaintive look on his face.

"My Lords, what else can be done? The West must continue to prosper, for ourselves and for our children and for our grandchildren," he closed his eyes and clenched his jaw,

"And what do we do when we wish for a species to survive when their very numbers fight against them?"

Lord Westerling hissed through his teeth. "A culling?" he whispered. 

Jaime nodded, his face grey and taut. "We need our soldiers and labourers alive and strong, but there are others we can do without. The old and young who will die either way, fertile women who will only bring hunger mouths into the world," he sat forward decisively, "So what I propose is this. In the upcoming winter only the strongest and hardiest will see it through. So what I propose is this. Each of you will select a tenth of your people and they shall be taken somewhere secure isolated, when none but us can reach them. We shall leave them in the wilderness and allow the to fend for themselves. We shall keep watch and once all but a quarter has perished or been slain, the survivors shall be taken home, having proved their worthiness,"

The lords sat in silence. Behind their screen, Brienne and Tyrion clutched each other, choking on their laughter. Jaime sat stoically, awaiting his lords' response.

"Alright," Lord Swyft said.

"Sounds like a plan," Lord Sarsfield agreed.

"What?" Jaime demanded, as Brienne and Tyrion froze behind their screen.

"Well, your father did something pretty similar," Lord Farman explained, "It worked a treat,"

"And if that fails," Lord Payne concluded, "We can always start breeding babies to be eaten,"

As the lords began to discuss possible locations and other semantics, Jaime slumped back into his seat. 

'Shit, shit, shitshitshit!' he thought, 'How am I going to get out of this one?'

#

"In the end I had to tell them I fudged the numbers up," Jaime groaned, running his hand along Brienne's bare shoulder, "You would have thought they would have been somewhat perturbed I had almost initiated a massacre, but they just shrugged it off,"

"Are you sure they weren't joking?" Brienne suggested, burying her face into the crook of Jaime's neck.

"How I wish they were," Jaime grimaced, "How I wish they were,"

"Perhaps Dares was a bad idea," Brienne mused, tracing a finger against Jaime's chest.

"Oh I am not so sure," Jaime squeezed Brienne tightly, "I am rather enjoying this one,"

Brienne smiled. "I commend you on your good taste in dares," she said.

"It is a shame Tyrion cannot watch," Jaime sighed, "I shall just have to tell him tomorrow,"

Brienne slapped his chest. "You will do no such thing," she berated him. 

"Alright, alright," Jaime said placated he, "Perhaps this is best just kept to ourselves,"

Brienne smiled and dozed off, well satisfied in the outcome of their game. Out of all the dares, laying with each other on the sands and beneath the stars where any might find them was the best one yet.

 


End file.
